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I love marine life, the ocean, sea shells, anything that has to do with water. However, tot only am I not an excellent swimmer, but I haven’t swum in the ocean for quite a while. There is no specific reason as to why, but I think it’s because I like to sit and appreciate the beauty, instead of invading it. I still submerge my feet, just not my entire body. Perhaps, it’s due to my positive childhood memories, and the good advantage I’ve taken of the beach. I don’t know. Maybe, I just got bored of it. After all, I grew up going to the beach and I even went camping on the beach.

My best friend and I used to go to the beach with our mums when we were little, and one day we went to this beach known (but unknown to us) for its high waves. Our mums were getting lunch ready and my friend I went by the shore to collect sea shells and rocks. Being the risk-takers that we were, we decided to go in a bit deeper but we faced our backs towards the waves so we could see our mums. Sure enough, they noticed we were too close to the waves and asked us to go back to the shore, but before we could there, a big wave approached. I remember looking under my legs and my eyes bulging. I yelled, “run” but before we could get ashore, the breaking wave caught up with us. It wasn’t a humongous wave, but it looked very big to us.We were fine, and we laughed it off after the initial scared faded.

One of my favourite memories is walking on the beach with my late grandparents. We used to buy ice cream and walk on the sidewalk and sand. I remember my grandma and I used to laugh at the fact my grandpa and sister took forever deciding which ice cream to buy. My grandpa and I would go to the rocks and stone skip into the water. I, of course, picked up the heavy ones because I loved the rippling effect they made in the water. Usually, there weren’t a lot of people nearby, so it was safe to do it. One of the most vivid memories I have of them. I even recall the smells!

Live without regrets, that sounds simple, right? Well, it isn’t and it will never be. I do not regret events in my life as much anymore, because there is no point on dwelling in the past. However, there is one thing I would’ve loved to do more – talk to my grandma more. Whenever I mention this, my family and friends think I’m being too hard on myself. I talked to my grandma, a lot, but I feel I should’ve asked her more questions and found out more about her history. Of course, after she passed away I clung onto my grandpa and drained all the stories I could out of him. He was happy sharing how he met my grandma and what they did together. They met when they were teenagers and stayed together until she passed away at age 79, in 2007. It’s amazing how much detail my grandpa remembered, but it goes to show you that love does amazing things. Because I did live in regret after her passing, I tried to make up for what I could not do with her, by reaching to my grandpa. I do wish I could’ve heard his stories through her voice, though. I understand now that even though I wish I could’ve done more, she did leave a great legacy and I got to listen to it through my grandpa’s voice. Their love helped me believe in love again.

If you live in regret, try not to, it does hurt your mind and soul. Instead, learn from past mistakes and focus on the positive that came out of them. After my grandpa passed away last year, I did not regret anything. I spoke to him as often as I could during his last year, and hearing me gave him peace and he let me know that. I have to tell you, there were times when I asked my mum a hundred times if he really was sick, because whenever he talked to me he would sound like he did in his younger years. She told me he was excited to hear and see me and my voice made his pain disappear.

There was a question asked by another blogger, about whether or not I have any good memories. It triggered a memory of my grandparents during the Christmas holidays. My maternal grandparents were like second parents, I grew up alongside them. There is a lot to tell about my life with them, but I’ll share a few stories.

Whenever I went to my grandparents’ house, I was always willing to help. I remember accompanying my grandma to the nearby market to get fresh groceries. We would stop by the juice bar and drink healthy blends. That’s probably the reason why I love to drink natural juices :p. Everyone at the market knew her by name; she was their number one customer and was always greeted with kindness. Actions do speak louder than words, and witnessing the love others had for her, helped me shape into the person I am today. There is a reason why they were kind to her, and that was because she always showed respect for everyone, regardless of race and social class, she treated everyone the same. Otherwise, why were they so nice to her? They even gave her great deals. Her way of living taught me to treat everyone the way I want to be treated —of course, I learned this from my mum, as well, but I just want to focus on my grandma at the moment — with respect and kindness. Ever since, everywhere I go, I always greet with a smile and ask questions in a polite manner. What’s sad is that some people seem surprised by such actions. It’s as though good manners have gone straight to the depths of a sewer; is it that uncommon?

Her love made me want to love others, and it made me want to do something special for her. I did a lot of special things, but I remember one Christmas when my sister and I decided to pick our favourite stuffed animals, and gave it to them as Christmas presents. For a child to give away their favourite stuffed animals, is like me giving up Lord of the Rings right now (never going to happen). But, that’s who she was and that’s who I wanted to be.

It was in 2007 on my 20th birthday when I last spoke to her. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that it would be the last time. It felt like an ordinary day, we talked about life and she said her usual “beware of the wolves (bad guys)” and “always cherish your parents.” I didn’t notice at the time, but our good-bye before I hung up the phone was the longest we’ve ever shared. I kept repeating good-bye, good-bye, bye, love you, bye, good-bye, God Bless. I sounded like a broken record. Two days later, I came home to find out she had a stroke. I reacted the way anyone would, in disbelief. She sounded so coherent, like her usual self, was it a joke? I honestly thought it was a cruel joke, and I would’ve preferred it being a cruel joke than a reality. She was in the hospital with my grandpa by her side everyday (what a trooper). The doctors said she couldn’t hear anything anyone said, but when I called and spoke to her, my uncle told me she started to cry. To me, that meant the world. Why? Because I did not get a chance to say good-bye in person. I did not get a chance to give her a kiss in her forehead or squeeze her tight with a bear hug, just like I imagined. I was upset, I was terrified, I was in shocked. She passed away in the days after my last phone call.

The thing is, I understand why nothing worked out so that I would be able to say good-bye in person. I understood deep down that she wanted me to remember her in life, not the way she was leaving this world. I don’t have that memory in my head, of her in a hospital bed. I remember her joyful and Faithful soul, dancing through her apartment, laughing and enjoying life. That’s who she was, and that’s how her legacy continues.

She passed away on October 12th, 2007. My grandpa joined her on May 27th, 2013.

I will talk more about them, but I had to get this out of my chest. I was feeling a bit nostalgic. I miss them. I miss them a lot.